Fixed in Fear

by T. E. Woods

  “The skill comes in handy in this line of work,” Rita finally answered. “People are animals, after all. We like to think we’ve evolved into something…I don’t know…something separate. But we’re animals, sure enough. An animal gets scared, he’s liable to do some things you’d least suspect.” She glanced back toward her stakeout companion. “But then again, if he gets scared enough, instinct kicks in. That’s when he does some pretty predictable things. If you know what’s instinctive for any animal, it helps in the catching.”

  DeVilla pulled a bottle of water from the cooler and offered one to Rita. She thanked him but declined, as she had his earlier offer of a sandwich and his even earlier offer of doughnuts and coffee. She had no idea how long it would be until Costigan showed. She didn’t need to be filling her belly or bladder with anything that might cause her to lose sight of her target.

  “You find those wolves?” DeVilla asked. “The ones that were tearing up your neighbors’ chickens?”

  Rita thought of the three wolf pelts hanging in the reservation’s teen activity center. She’d not liked killing the intelligent and beautiful animals, but they’d been hunting too close to humans. She’d witnessed the natural progression of wolves comfortable with populated feeding grounds. If they got hungry enough wolves wouldn’t discriminate among a chicken, a pet dog, or an eighteen-month-old toddling away from an inattentive sitter. She recalled squatting in that bush blind watching the trio approach. She was downwind of them. They hadn’t sensed her yet. She became mesmerized by the graceful lupine dancers approaching on silent footfalls. She offered up her respect for the animals and her wish for a smooth passage to what lay next in their journey.

  Then she fired three times and watched them drop to the forest floor.

  “I did what needed to be done,” she told Jimmy.

  Rita watched an overweight woman of medium height approach Costigan’s building. The woman wore bright pink polyester pants and a flowered pink and yellow blouse. Rita thought it an odd choice for this late in September but appreciated the flash of color on such a gloomy day. The woman fumbled with her keys before unlocking the front door of the bail bond office. Seconds later the interior lights blinked on, and Rita watched the woman settle in behind a government surplus desk as gray as the overcast skies.

  “You got a limit on how much time you want to invest in this before we call it a day?” DeVilla asked. “For all we know, Costigan’s taken off for Canada. Or maybe he’s just on a three-day binge. No reason to think he’d be sitting around waiting for us to pick him up. What d’ya say we give it till noon? If Costigan doesn’t show up we’ll turn it over to patrol.”

  Rita felt the vibration she always got when whatever she was tracking was near. Costigan hadn’t run. She didn’t know how she was certain, but she was. She’d find him. And she’d find him today.

  At 10:45 three people approached the building. Two men and a woman. Both men were dressed in leather, and the woman wore a long garment built from multiple layers of flowing jewel-tone fabrics. The trio entered the tattoo parlor, turned on the inside lights, and at two minutes to 11:00 the neon OPEN sign was lit.

  At 11:03 Bruiser pulled himself from his give-me-a-belly-rub position into full attention. Rita heard a low rumbling from the backseat.

  A man stood across the street. Rita checked the photograph taped to her dashboard. It was Costigan. A block and a half from the front door of his apartment building. Approaching at a slow enough pace to suggest he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Rita and DeVilla popped open their car doors in unison.

  “I’ll take the front, you and Bruiser take the rear.” Rita and DeVilla had both come in plain clothes. On instinct she touched her hand to the small of her back and reassured herself her service revolver was in place. “I’ll speak first. Could be a woman won’t spook him as much.” She turned to Bruiser. “If this bad boy gets running, feel free to have at, buddy.” She glanced toward DeVilla. “You ready?”

  DeVilla nodded.

  Rita headed to her right, ready to approach Costigan as he neared the single door between the bail bondsman and tattoo parlor. DeVilla and Bruiser headed left, in position to stop Costigan if he tried to retreat.

  Rita crossed the street before DeVilla. She walked rapidly toward the man who hadn’t looked this tall in his photographs. He looked up at her when he was about four steps from his front door.

  “Jerry Costigan.” Rita’s voice was loud and firm. “I have a few questions for you.”

  Costigan didn’t wait to hear any more. He looked behind him, saw DeVilla and Bruiser, and tore off running across the street.

  For a large man, Costigan moved quickly. Rita sprinted across the street and jumped into her SUV as DeVilla and Bruiser ran after him. She drove west and took the first right turn, grateful for the light midmorning traffic. She traveled two blocks and took the next right, past a mail-sorting facility. She glanced across the large parking lot and saw Bruiser five lengths ahead of DeVilla. There was no sign of Costigan. She turned left, up one block, then another right. She squealed to a stop against the curb, exited her car, sprinted to the corner of an abandoned department store, and flattened herself against the wall. She counted her heartbeats. When she got to four, she heard running footsteps. Reaching behind her back, she drew her weapon and pivoted around the corner.

  “Stop there!” she yelled, leveling her gun at Jerry Costigan. “Now!”

  Costigan froze. He looked behind him, then back toward Rita, his face twisted in manic rage.

  “Down on the ground! Now!”

  Costigan sneered, leaned a shoulder forward as though ready to make a running tackle…and was thrown facedown to the ground when a 110-pound German shepherd crashed into him. Costigan cried out in fear as Bruiser stayed on top of him, snapping his jaws less than an inch from the back of Costigan’s neck.

  Rita held her gun steadied on her target and stepped nearer.

  “Hands out wide to your side! Spread your legs!”

  “Get him off me! This son of a bitch is going to kill me!” Costigan’s shrieks were laced with true terror.

  “Not unless I tell him to.” Jim DeVilla huffed out his warning as he trotted up to the scene. He walked over to his dog, who held his position on top of Costigan. “Bruiser, down.”

  The giant animal stopped snapping and laid himself full weight on top of the man he’d tackled. DeVilla kicked Costigan’s legs apart before grabbing Costigan’s right wrist.

  “I’m going to call him off you now,” he said. “I want you to bear in mind two things. First off, I want you to see that Chief Willers here has her gun trained on your skull. This woman dances with wolves. I don’t think I’d question her ability to land a bullet within a centimeter of her intended target. The second thing I want you to keep thought of is how well Officer Bruiser here responds to commands and how easy it would be for me to call out an order leaving your balls halfway down his throat before you even felt the pain. Now you ready? All you have to do is lay there nice and still.”

  “Just get this son of a bitch off me!” Costigan shrilled.

  DeVilla called “Bruiser hold!” and the dog instantly stepped off Costigan and sat one yard away. “You can go ahead and wiggle yourself into a seated position if you’d like,” Jimmy told his prisoner as he cuffed the trembling man’s hands behind his back. “But don’t try to stand. Bruiser hasn’t had his lunch yet and my guess is that red neck of yours is looking mighty tasty.”

  Rita Willers enjoyed watching Costigan maneuver himself into a seated position while his hands were chained behind his back, still pleading with them to keep the big dog away from him. DeVilla didn’t seem interested in the show. He approached her with a grin.

  “Damn, Chief. How’d you know where he’d go?”

  Rita kept her eyes and her gun on Costigan. “Like I said. We’re all animals. A scared animal runs on instinct. Doesn’t scheme or plot. A running animal will turn right first when making an escape.
It takes planning to turn left. Gotta override that natural instinct. And when an animal’s scared it’s not planning.”

  DeVilla let out a low whistle. “You oughta teach a class, you know that?” He nodded over his shoulder to the frightened tough guy inching his way away from Bruiser. “You want me to babysit him while you call this in?”

  Rita shook her head. “This is your turf. Bring in the troops.” She called out to her other partner. “Come over here, Bruiser. Sit by me.”

  The furry behemoth trotted over and assumed the spot beside her. Rita smiled. “This is the finest partner I’ve ever met.”

  DeVilla nodded as he pulled out his cellphone. “You won’t get one dissent from me on that one, Chief.”

  Chapter 25

  “This feels like punishment.” Hadley Grant stomped her left foot. “I haven’t done anything bad. Did Hayden do something bad and you think I’m her? Take a good look, Mommy. I’m being good.”

  Hayden knew Papa would have said Hadley was fighting a losing battle. Her parents had asked the twins to stay inside after they’d gotten back from breakfast at Porky Patty’s. That was her and Hadley’s favorite restaurant, and her parents took them there only for an extra-special treat. That should have been enough for Hadley. But Hadley always had to push for just a little more. Who cares if Mommy and Daddy wanted them to play inside? It was Friday and their parents had let them sleep in. No school! And their bellies were full with sausage gravy and biscuits.

  “Come on, Hadley.” Hayden grabbed her sister’s hand. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll let you brush my hair.” Brushing people’s hair was, like, Hadley’s favorite thing on the planet. Even more than playing video games on Daddy’s tablet.

  “I want to go outside.” Hadley plopped herself on the bottom stair. “It’s a nice day, and I want to draw chalk on the driveway.”

  Hayden looked out the window. It didn’t look like a nice day. It was all gray. Mommy said days like this meant the clouds were coming for a dance. That was a nice thought, but whenever they came to dance the clouds always made her feel cold and just a little wet on her skin. Besides, Hadley’s chalk wouldn’t work when the day was like this. She was just being stubborn. And Hayden had an idea Mommy and Daddy knew it.

  That wouldn’t be good for anybody.

  Sure enough, Hayden heard her father’s footsteps coming down the hall. She looked up at her mother, who stood above Hadley with her hands on her hips and that look on her face Papa said meant business. Hayden didn’t know what kind of business Mommy meant when her face got like that, but she was pretty sure she didn’t want to ever find out.

  “Hadley, stand up right now.” Her father stood over Hadley now, too. He had his business face on, too. Hayden backed away. If someone was going to get punished, this wasn’t the time for Mommy and Daddy to be mixing up which twin was which.

  Hadley stood and turned toward Daddy. Her hands were on her hips just like Mommy’s. Hayden looked away so she wouldn’t start giggling.

  “Just tell me why we can’t play outside,” Hadley negotiated.

  Daddy looked down at her, then up to look at Mommy. Hayden thought for a second her father was going to burst out laughing. But then he got that business look again.

  “Because I said so.” Daddy’s voice wasn’t so laughy now.

  Hadley stared at her father for a long minute while Hayden was sending frantic just be quiet thoughts to her twin. Hayden was thrilled when her sister turned toward her.

  “Come on, Hayden. Let’s play beauty. You be the customer and I’ll fix your hair.”

  Hayden looked to her mother and father and smiled. She liked it when her mother or father brushed her hair, but Hadley pulled too hard. Still, if it would stop anybody from yelling, Hayden was all for it.

  “I’ll race you. Ready, set, go!” Hayden knew her sister would beat her. She was already at least four steps closer to their room when they started. But she raced up the stairs and into their room anyway. Losing the race was better than Hadley getting in trouble.

  “Why do you do that?” Hayden closed the door to their bedroom while Hadley got the brush and comb off the dresser.

  “Here,” Hadley ordered. “Sit on the bed. You’re my first customer of the day. Your name is Heavenly Alberta and you have a big, fancy party to go to. The prince will be there and you think he’s cute. You’re going to pay me a million dollars to fix your hair so the prince will fall madly in love with you and ask you to dance.”

  Hayden liked the way Hadley always had the setup for their games in her head. She sat on the corner of the bed and fluffed her blond curls with both hands. “Oh, Jessica. That’s your name, by the way. Oh, Jessica. I think the prince loves someone else. Make me the girl with the prettiest hair and the prince will want to dance only with me.”

  Hadley climbed behind her twin, knees on the bed, brush in her hand. “When he sees this, Heavenly, he’ll want to make you the queen and everyone in the land will come to me to have their hair cut. I’ll charge them all a million dollars and I’ll be rich, rich, rich.” She grabbed Hayden by the shoulders and twisted her toward her. “You do have my million dollars, don’t you?”

  Hayden dug into the front pocket of her jeans and pulled out an imaginary wad of bills. “Here’s two million dollars. Make the prince love me.”

  Hadley tucked the invisible money into her invisible apron and brought the brush to Hayden’s head.

  “Ow!” Hayden complained. “Not so hard.”

  “How’s that?” Hadley eased up.

  “That’s better.” Hayden let her sister brush and talk. “This is nice, Hadley. Wouldn’t it have been okay to just do what Mommy and Daddy wanted right from the start? Why do you have to make them explain everything? And you know they’re never going to listen to you when you stomp that sassy foot of yours.”

  Hadley tossed the brush aside and crawled off the bed. She crossed over and flopped onto her own bed. “Rules, rules, rules. Do this. Do that. I want to play. Have fun.” She rolled over to her belly, looked at her sister, and wiggled her eyebrows. “Eat sausage and gravy every day!”

  Both girls giggled. Hayden agreed she wouldn’t mind starting each and every morning at Porky Patty’s.

  “And pizza from Giannino’s every night!” Hadley squealed.

  “Except for when Papa makes us hamburgers on the grill.” Hayden fell back onto her bed and rubbed her stomach. “Yum!”

  “A different dessert every night, but the same every day.” Hadley held a hand in front of her and counted on her fingers. “Monday would be hot fudge sundaes. Tuesdays would be lemon pie. You do the next two.”

  “Wednesdays would be chocolate chip cookies and milk. While they’re still warm, of course.”

  “Of course!”

  “Thursdays will be banana pie. You do Friday, I’ll do Saturday, and we’ll have double desserts on Sunday.”

  “Okay. For Fridays I pick…I pick Christmas cookies! Even in summer. Christmas cookies every Friday!”

  Hayden kicked her legs in glee. “That’s such a good idea! Okay, for Saturdays I pick tapioca pudding. With whipped cream.”

  Hadley scrunched her nose. “I don’t like tapioca pudding. Could I have vanilla instead?”

  “Of course, madam.” Hayden made her voice sound snooty, like those people on that television show Mommy watches. “You are Jessica. You make millions of dollars on hairdos. Vanilla pudding for you, tapioca for me. And now for Sunday. My choice for double dessert day is blueberries and cream. And you, my lady?”

  Hadley thought. “This is hard. Just one more pick. I don’t like that. But if I could only pick one for double dessert Sunday, I’d pick brownies. Ooey, gooey brownies. And I’d always get the corner piece with the snappy crusty edges.”

  “Brownies!” Hayden smacked herself on the forehead. “How did it take us so long to come up with brownies? We’re just glum dumb stupid.” Hayden rested quietly in her bed, lost in her fantasy of ritualized dessert schedules. “Wouldn’t
that be great, though?” she asked, after a minute.

  “What?” Hadley wanted to know. “To have anything we wanted?”

  “Yeah. Wouldn’t that be the best?”

  Hadley was quiet. Then she looked toward the bedroom door, like she was making sure it was closed. “What if there was a way?” she whispered.

  Hayden scrunched up her nose. “Mommy has a three-dessert-a-week rule. We’re never getting past that one.”

  “What if we were visiting someone who didn’t have those rules?” Hadley asked. “What if there was someone who said we could have anything and do anything we wanted when we went to visit?”

  “You mean like Papa or Grandmama in Paris?” Hayden shook her head. “They’re a lot more fun than Mommy and Daddy. I gotta hand that one to you. But they still have rules. Remember the time you wanted to jump into the water off Papa’s houseboat? Remember he said we could only go in the water if he was in there with us? That’s a rule, Hadley. Every grown-up’s got ’em. Every last one of ’em.”

  “Aunt Allie doesn’t.”

  Hayden felt something she didn’t like flop around in her chest. She pulled herself into a seated position and looked right at her twin. “I don’t think we’re allowed to visit Aunt Allie. Mommy and Daddy seemed set on that. Even Papa didn’t think it was a good idea. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell.”

  Hadley sat up and turned excited blue eyes toward her sister. “Isn’t she beautiful? She’s like a princess. I got to talk to her more on field day than you did. Her voice sounds like music. She loves us so much. All she wants to do is make us happy.”

  “She said that?”

  Hadley nodded and her blond curls danced. “She’s been working. All over the world. Not just in Paris like Grandmama, but lots of other places, too. She says each place is prettier than the last. With white sand and blue water. Castles and big houses. She’s been in airplanes—”